


Bhraspati-265

by MeetMeInThePit (Gil_Galads)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 19:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20765987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gil_Galads/pseuds/MeetMeInThePit
Summary: Alema'mersu met Anoon'passik when she was working the bar in the spacers' cantina on the Bhraspati-265 asteroid.//Or, a friendship in the early years of the Galactic Empire.





	Bhraspati-265

**Author's Note:**

> i cant really think of any specific warnings for this fic? theres some sexual references, but nothing too graphic
> 
> anyway please enjoy my ocs, theyre gr8

Alema'mersu met Anoon'passik when she was working the bar in the spacers' cantina on the Bhraspati-265 asteroid. Bhraspati was one of the many unaffiliated fueling stations and outposts along the Corellian Trade Spine, and despite its perhaps less than reputable reputation and wholly unremarkable nature, it was a decent enough place to settle down and avoid the Empire. Alema had worked in a series of similar bars on a string of similar outposts and trading stations for years, even before the Republic fell, and despite its size and remote location, she was becoming rather fond of this one. She'd never had the temperament for big cities, and the quiet out here suited her just fine. Alema was even growing to like the insular nature of the people here- everyone knew everyone else, and other than the occasional smuggler or Imperial patrol, very little broke the soothing routine of business on the asteroid. 

Even Anoon wasn't wholly unfamiliar to her- she'd seen him before, in the cantina and around the outpost, and though she'd never met him she knew he was a long-haul cargo pilot, and a quiet, respectable sort, as far as cargo pilots went. He didn't talk to too many people, and was a little mysterious, but he was polite and always paid his tab, and that was good enough for the locals. 

He'd first caught her eye because of his looks, which were distinctive, if nothing else. Alema had quietly wondered about what had happened to him, to cause the kind of burn scarring visible on his face, and the unadorned and utilitarian patch covering his left eye, where the scarring seemed thickest. It was shockingly brutal, and whatever it was had quite clearly nearly killed him, especially if she was correct in her suspicions that his left arm was a prosthetic. But he was handsome enough, under the scarring. Alema had always had a thing for green, and she liked the mottled freckles on his lekku and the unburned parts on his face. She wondered if the freckles continued, under his high-collared jacket and dark gloves. 

But still, they'd operated in the same orbit for a while before they were formally introduced, one night. Usually, when Anoon passed through the cantina he'd sit at a booth in the corner, with a few of the other cargo pilots, and play sabacc and dice quietly, nursing a drink. Their meeting was a deviation in his routine- he came in alone, earlier in Bhraspati's artificial night cycle than he usually did, and sat at the bar. Alema had been idly wiping down the same stretch of countertop when he came in, and made her way over to him curiously, hoping for something to break the evening's monotony, if nothing else.

"Can I get you something, love?" Alema wasn't fond of flirting with customers, exactly, but she was fond of the extra tips it tended to get her, so she did it anyway. It brought a small smile to Anoon's face, though, and she found she did like that. 

"Do you know how to make a Ryloth Snake Bite, by any chance?" She paused, a little surprised by his unexpectedly soft, Coruscanti-accented voice. But she did know how to make that drink, and she also knew how to keep her mouth shut and not ask questions. 

"Sure," she said, already turning to pull the right bottles off the rack. She felt him watching her as she worked, but it felt more curious than lecherous, so she let it be. "You're Anoon'passik, yes? I've been seeing you around, lately." 

He smiled again in thanks as she slid him the drink, and took a long sip before replying. 

"I've picked up some regular contracts along this route, recently. Bhraspati's quieter than most fueling stations this side of the Expansion Region, and the drinks aren't half bad, either." Alema blinked, and realised he was complimenting her. A smile crept across her face, and she gave him a considering look. Handsome enough, polite, _and_ he was a twi'lek, which you didn't see too many of on Bhraspati. She leaned forward the bartop, resting her elbows on the scuffed synthsteel. 

"I'm Alema'mersu," she said, and shrugged her lekku over her shoulders in a move she knew was eye-catching. Anoon watched her, remaining eye dark and glittering in the dim cantina. "You got a place to stay that ain't your ship, sweetheart?" 

The freckles did keep going, as it turned out, and while the fingers on his prosthetic hand were perhaps not as nimble as those on his right, they didn't get tired.

* * *

Life for Alema continued in much the same way as it always had, despite Anoon's occasional presence in her home and bed. She liked him, and he liked her, but neither felt the need to leave the routines they'd settled into, and that was just fine by them. She thought that maybe, in another life, they could've built something together, but in the here and now it didn't seem meant to be. Anoon had a sadness in him that Alema knew she couldn't fix, and his past was still a mystery she respected him too much to try to solve. It wasn't an unusual arrangement, in these parts, amongst people like them, and it worked for a reason. 

They weren't exclusive, but Anoon was her most frequent partner, and although she never asked she suspected the same was true for him. He was gone more often than not, hauling anything from raw materials to medical supplies, and his visits were unannounced, but always welcome. Alema felt peaceful, in his presence, despite the air of melancholy that lingered on him like the spice smoke and fry grease that clung to her work clothes, and she enjoyed his educated, eclectic conversation.

He was running from something, she came to realize not long after they met. It was obvious enough, in his lonely tendencies and solitary work, and in the nightmares he had that woke him, shivering and sweating, in the night. He rarely cried out in his sleep, and Alema often woke in the morning to find him on her sofa, tired-eyed and sad, having slipped from her bed without waking her sometime in the night. She never asked him what he dreamed of, but she'd met enough veterans of the Clone War to guess. 

It wasn't always sad, though; there were plenty of nights where she joined him at the sabacc table after her shift, and played a few hands with the other pilots for spare change and trinkets, laughing as he somehow managed to guess the quality of everyone else's hands, or shuffle the cards like a professional dealer. He had a tendency to wander when he was drunk, and more than once Alema had had to go searching for him after he'd gotten lost on the way to the fresher, or gotten turned around in the uniform, prefabricated back hallways of the station. Anoon was a friend, whatever else he was, and she appreciated his company. 

* * *

Things changed, though, when she realized she was pregnant. Anoon was her only reproductively compatible partner, at the time, and the timing was right, too, so she knew it was his. Alema had gotten a contraceptive shot, a few years back, but they weren't foolproof, and she knew she could've been more cautious. 

She almost makes an appointment with the outpost's one and only medic, to take care of things, but then she starts thinking about it. She'd never really considered children, before; never really thought it was a possibility for her, but now that she's thinking about it she finds the idea more welcome than she'd expected. She likes Anoon, and even if they weren't together, she trusts him to do right by her and any child she has. 

As much as she likes it there, Bhraspati isn't exactly a good place to raise a child, so she starts going over her savings, looking into places she could go. She doesn't want to go too far into the core, closer to the Empire, but further into the Outer Rim is too dangerous. She'd ask Anoon, but they'd never bothered to exchange comm codes, so she can't even tell him about the pregnancy, much less ask him for advice. 

In the end, she settles on another outpost- bigger than Bhraspati and on a moon with an actual atmosphere, rather than bolted to the side of an asteroid. It's not quite a thriving spaceport, but it'll do. She's loathe to leave without telling Anoon anything, but she can't afford to wait around for him to show up again, so she keeps an eye out for his sabacc buddies, in the cantina, and approaches one of the more reputable ones. Well, she's pretty sure they're a smuggler, but she's pretty sure Anoon does some of that, too, on the side, so she's not too bothered. 

The smuggler doesn't have Anoon's comm code either (Alema's beginning to see a pattern, there), but they promise to pass on where she's gone the next time they see Anoon, and wish her the best of luck. She doesn't tell anyone other than the local medic (who she bribes into silence) about her pregnancy, just in case whatever it is Anoon's running from ever catches up. You can never be too careful, these days. 

Her new home has about thirteen different names in nearly as many languages, and the residents seem to have made a game of arguing over which one is the 'real' name. The small moon is technically under Imperial control, and the local pirate gang that actually controls it seems content to allow the polite fiction to stand, and the Empire doesn't care enough to do anything about the pirates. It's near enough to some of the bigger hyperlanes that there's a good economy, but it's not so close as to be of any use politically. In Alema's eyes, it's perfect. 

She settles into her new apartment, finds a job waiting tables that's much the same as every other job she's had, and goes to her prenatal appointments at the local clinic dutifully. The adjustment is difficult, but the fresh air is wonderful after years of Bhraspati's recycled taste. 

The people aren't bad, but she doesn't know this place like she knew Bhraspati, and she finds herself missing the quiet more than she'd expected. It's lonely here, among the crowds, in a way the tiny outpost never was. She misses Anoon's quiet calm, and catches herself searching for his freighter in the docking bays that she passes on her way to and from work. 

She names the child Sekua'mersu. She's born with Alema's night-blue skin and, as the weeks go by in a tired haze after her birth, develops a mottled pattern of freckles across her skin. She's a quiet baby, alert and watchful even before her eyes can focus on anything further than a few inches in front of her face, and is a warm and comforting weight against Alema's chest in the sling she wears. 

Alema doesn't have much experience with infants, but she downloaded a few datapacks on early childhood development to read in her spare time before she gave birth, and the local twi'leki grandparents practically adopt her the minute they see her alone in the marketplace with her daughter strapped to her chest. Their wisdom is indispensable, and she takes to leaving little Seku with a retired 'merchant' (code for pirate) by the name of Yuned'oneeta. They're a wiley old bastard who carries at least two blasters and a vibroknife at all times, but Alema trusts them to look out for her daughter.

She's almost forgotten that she's waiting for Anoon, in the rush of new parenthood, when he finally shows up. 

She's at work, barely a week after the end of her unfortunately short maternity leave, when one of the local street children comes running up to her. The brats run messages and errands for small change, and Yuned, in their slightly-paranoid eccentricity, trusts them more than a comm call. 

"Miss Alema, miss Alema!" The tiny weequay tugs at her apron urgently, and she feels fear creep into her throat. "Old Yuned says there's a spacer at your apartment!" 

Anoon. It has to be, there's no one else it could be, so she makes a halfhearted excuse to her boss and rushes home before Yuned does something drastic. 

As it turns out, Yuned's already done something drastic. Anoon is tied to her kitchen chair, a bruise blooming on his cheek, looking remarkably calm as Yuned, with Seku strapped to their back, threatens him with their vibroknife. 

Alema takes this in, sighs in exasperation, and clears her throat as she meets Anoon's eye over Yuned's shoulder. He raises a brow, an expression of mild amusement on his scarred face. He really is strange, she thinks absently. 

"Stand down Yuned, he's a friend." Yuned gives her a skeptical look, but puts the knife away. Alema clears her throat again, and Yuned, grumbling, pulls out the knife again and cuts the cords binding Anoon. 

"Caught him sniffing around your door, dear- thought he was after the little one." 

"I was, in a way," says Anoon, rubbing his wrist. "Hello, Alema'mersu. Apologises for taking so long." He smiles at her, and she smiles back, instinctively. She really did miss him. 

Yuned looks between the two of them, and catches on. They pull Seku, who is awake but quiet, watching with big dark eyes, out of the sling, passing her to Alema. "I'll be just outside if you need me, dear," they say, giving Anoon a pointed look. 

Alema guides Anoon to her small sofa, and tries to think of what to say to him. He beats her to it, though. 

"I take it she's mine," he says, evenly. 

"Yes," says Alema. "Her name is Sekua'mersu." 

Anoon looks down at his hands, folded in his lap, and then back up at Seku. In contrast to his calm face, his lekku are tense, and there's a nervous look in his eye. 

"Would you like to hold her?" she asks, and bites back a laugh at the way his head jerks up in clear shock. She's a bit worried that Seku, who doesn't like strangers much, will cry when she's passed over, but she settles into Anoon's arms easily. He looks down at her, awe visible in every inch of his body, as she flails out a tiny fist and grabs onto the leather straps wrapped around one of his lekku. 

"Oh," he says, softly. "She's so…_bright_…" 

Alema scooches over on the sofa, and puts her hand on his arm. He leans into her touch, but doesn't look up from Seku. He'll be a good father, Alema thinks, and smiles again. 

"I have to tell you something, Alema," he says, after a bit. He sounds serious, and as afraid as she's ever heard him. "You two could be in danger, because of me." 

Ah, she thinks. The mysterious past.

He gently passes Seku back to her, and, unexpectedly, shrugs out of his coat. His prosthetic arm gleams bronze, and she watches curiously as he reaches up with his right hand, and presses a panel in the bicep. It pops open, and he fishes around for a moment, pulling out a small datachip.

"Nice hiding place," she offers, to break the silence, and he snorts. 

"Can I borrow your datapad?" he asks, and when she nods he plugs the datachip into it, pulling up a plain lockscreen. It takes him a few minutes to get through all the encryptions, and the longer he takes the higher her brows raise. What the _hell_ could he be hiding?! 

Finally, he hands her the datapad. At first, she's confused, but then she realises what she's looking at. It's a holo of Anoon, some years younger, unscarred, a fair sight healthier, amd with both his eyes, smiling gently, his hand on the shoulder of a small, grinning human child. They're both wearing some sort of layered robes, the child has a single long braid behind their ear, and the whole scene looks so _familiar_ that Alema can hardly breath, and that's when she notices the lightsaber hanging from Anoon's belt, the caption on the holo. 

_Jedi Knight Vrei & Padawan Janta _

Alema can't breath. 

_Jedi_, her mind says. 

_Jedi Knight, _

_jedi, _

_jedi, _

_jedi. _

Anoon is looking at her, still and calm on the surface, but this close to him she can _feel_ his tension. 

"I ran," he says, very quietly. "They put me in charge of an infiltration squad, and on one of our first missions I got hit by a grenade. I don't know how many of my squad lived, but when I woke up I was down an arm and an eye and had been found bleeding out by the locals. My name was on the K.I.A. list, and I ran." 

He looks down at his hands, twisted in his lap, one green and freckled, the other bronze and gleaming. 

"I've never been so ashamed of myself in my life. I had a padawan- an apprentice, and responsibilities- but I was afraid, and I ran.

"It was early in the war, but I could already see how the Order was changing, and it scared me. I was afraid of the darkness I could see on the horizon, and so I let them think I was dead. I would've undoubtedly died if I had stayed, if not in the war then in the Purge, but…" he trails off, but Alema knows what he means. 

In her arms, Seku twists, whimpering, and screws up her face to cry. Alema bounces her in her arms, makes quiet gentle noises, but it doesn't seem to work until Anoon reaches out, tentatively, and lays his hand on her small head. 

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay young one, I'm sorry for upsetting you, it's fine now, it's fine.." 

Miraculously, it works. As Anoon speaks, the tension seems to bleed from him- and from Seku, and Alema can feel herself calming, as well. 

"What _was_ that?" she whispers. 

"She's force sensitive," he says, and looks at her with heartbreak in his eyes. "She can sense our emotions, and it worries her when we're upset." 

A jedi child, Alema thinks, and suddenly realizes why Anoon said he put them in danger. 

"If the Empire finds her-" she starts to say, and then stops. Anoon nods. 

"I doubt they'll come searching, on an out of the way moon like this, and for now I can build a sort of shield, in her mind, to prevent other force users from sensing her- but when she's older I'll have to teach her to control her abilities."

"Alema-" he starts to say, but she interrupts him.

"I don't blame you," she says hastily. "I just want you to know that. It's not your fault the Empire hunts force sensitives. Just- just promise me you'll do your best. To protect her." 

Anoon looks her in the eye, and she can see his resolve. 

"I will," he says, and looks down at Seku, who is falling asleep in Alema's arms. "I will."

**Author's Note:**

> i do have a bit more planned for these characters, hopefully i can get that out sooner rather than later


End file.
